Kowabonga!

Since leaving Waterloo Park, we “weekend-ed” at the Benton County Fairgrounds RV Park, another past residence of the JM Roadies. Not a 5-star park, but it was convenient to our activities for the weekend, so we moved in, with a background of whinny-ing horses calling from the nearby barns.

Saturday night we were treated to a spectacular wild Chinook BBQ with friends we met on the road 2 years ago. The story goes like this: We were visiting a historic fort location west of Corvallis as part of Janice’s research. Our pooch, the late Carly, began trading sniffs with another dog (Rosie). Apparently their noses were the right temperature, as they became instant friends—both of the mature dogs who had long ago given up puppy antics. As the sniffing continued, we talked with the folks at the end of the leash, finding out they were Corvallis residents, but were formerly from the SF Bay area. The group consisted of a daughter, Jan Roberts-Dominguez, somewhat younger than us, who is a talented food editor, author and artist. She was accompanied by her parents, probably in their 70s, who were Rosie’s meal ticket. Over the next 2 years, Janice kept in touch with Jan.

The food was amazing, but what would you expect from such a gastronomical maestro? Other guests included a vintner (Tyee Wines) so there was no shortage of social lubricant. I suppose the least we could have done would have been to toast Carly. But for her sticking her nose in Rosie’s rump, this Corvallis soiree would never have occurred.

Sunday morning we were up early and headed west to Toledo, where the combined aromas of the local pulp plant and the mud flats of the local river produced an aromatic stench that was unforgettable. Toledo was the site of the City Café, pre-arranged meeting place with Zana and Jeri, fellow roadies from the Mexico caravan. Previous meetings with them occurred in Yellowstone Park and Laguna Seca, near Monterey. Exceptional omelettes in this hole in the wall. When we left, the wind had cleared the air, and we headed for the next stop, the Nesika Illahee Pow-Wow (aka Indian Jamboree).

There were probably more vendors than attendees at this event, and every Indian-related trinket known to man were being offered. I wore my "Cowboy Café" T-shirt from Dubois, Wyoming, but none of the Indians present held any cowboy grudges. Various ceremonies were held in a central “ring” with a parade of fully dressed Indians in costume that went on and on and on. The dazzling display of feathers was a fly-tyers’s dream. The author conferred briefly with Robert Kentta who reviewed the Indian portions of her book for accuracy, thanking him personally. We managed to escape the premises without making a single purchase---the morning’s omelette sat in my stomach like a sack of cement---there would be no squaw-bread snacks.

We wound our way home along Highway 20, over hill and dale, often through tunnels of tree-canopies. Arriving home, we set up the Scrabble table, splitting the evening’s double-header. Running trip score: Jeff 43, Janice 10, one tie.

Before leaving for Salem this morning, we enjoyed a bike ride. Wonderful bike paths in Corvallis. Worth spending a night or two at the fairgrounds. Coincidentally, we ran across our Saturday night dinner hosts, who were out walking Rosie, who was prolifically filling blue plastic bags. I enjoyed giving Rosie a final scratch behind the ears and a pat on the rump: “This one’s from Carly.”